Page 142 of Unhinged

I need my alphas. And I don’t know why the hell they haven’t come for me yet.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

ACID

We’re closing in on the meat factory when I spot it—the same SUV from the road shootout parked crooked against the side of the building. My stomach tightens. I lift my hand fast and wave Arrow and Gears down, pointing toward the vehicle.

They both nod, eyes narrowing.

We kill the engines and roll our bikes to a silent stop a good distance back. Last thing we need is the rumble of exhaust tipping someone off if they’re still inside.

I take point.

We move in quiet, careful steps over busted pavement and weeds tall enough to hide a body. The back entrance is half-hanging on its hinges. I motion for Gears to watch our six and nod for Arrow to go right while I push the door open slowly.

Inside’s a graveyard.

We pass a row of old offices first. Doors open, some barely hanging, papers scattered across cracked linoleum. One still has a broken mug on the desk, dried coffee staining a stack of yellowed forms. All of it empty.

A breakroom’s next; bare lightbulb swinging above a sink full of spiderwebs. The cabinets hang open and empty, one door missing entirely. Fridge door’s rusted shut. I glance inside, nothing but dust and some sad roaches fleeing the light. No signs of life.

We keep moving. I feel the tension in my jaw and the weight of the Glock in my hand. My omega’s here. Iknowit.

Then we reach the door to the main factory floor.

It’s filled with old machines that look like they haven’t worked in years. Conveyor belts, rusted hooks, some vats that make my stomach turn just looking at them. And there she is.

Brydgett.

Standing over a woman’s dead body, her shoulders drawn tight, chest heaving. Blood on her shirt. Earl’s sprawled out behind her, not moving. Good. Fucker looks better dead. But it’s the man behind her that makes my vision go red.

Marcus.

He’s got a gun. He’s standing behind her. And her back’s to him.

I don’t even think. I burst through the door with my Glock raised and finger on the trigger, ready to blow his homeless-ass head off.

“Acid, no!” she screams, jumping in front of him like I’m the threat. Her arms spread wide, her eyes wild and glowing in the light. “He saved me.”

I freeze.Fuck.

I don’t lower my weapon yet, just ease it down a notch. “He what?”

“He saved me,” she says again, voice raw and tight.

I grind my teeth. “How the hell did he know where they took you?”

Marcus steps forward, still holding the gun down at his side. “I went outside to get some fresh air. I don’t do crowds. Don’t donoise. But I came for Brydgett. I saw them hauling her off. She was unconscious. I followed.”

I narrow my eyes, still not convinced.

“I lost them for a bit. Was on foot,” he adds calmly. “But I used the tracking skills I learned back when I was a ranger. Found the place eventually.”

I open my mouth to question him, but Brydgett suddenly cries out, grabbing her stomach and doubling over with a sound that guts me.

Arrow’s there in a second. He scoops her up like she weighs nothing and the scent hits all three of us at once—her heat.

Fuck. Not here. Not now.